


It's Alien Sex Pollen

by bad_egg_glitch



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mentions of Death, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex Pollen, a slightly different take on it though, but his love for his boss is pure, robotnik is secretly a badass, stone is secretly a pervert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad_egg_glitch/pseuds/bad_egg_glitch
Summary: The mushroom planet made sure that Robotnik left with a parting gift: a rather unfortunate infection.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 49
Kudos: 426





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Let's fill this ship tag with all the cliches! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

Robotnik frowned down at the glass bottles on his desk, eyeing the luminescent, powdery substance inside with equal parts disdain and caution. He had been home from that damned mushroom planet for days, but he still hadn’t escaped its torments completely. The planet was still under his skin, and he breathed deeply, trying and failing to will his body into submission. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was a war being waged for control of his impulses, and he was losing.

He knew a fungal aphrodisiac when he saw one—he didn’t need to run any tests to understand what the substance was doing to him. 

It felt like the powder was taunting him, gloating that it had already taken root inside his body with or without his permission. He’d picked a fight with the wrong giant mushroom one particularly delirious evening, and now he was paying the price. He tried very hard not to think about how he’d attacked the stem of it so wildly that it had snapped in half, and how he’d stood there like an absolute idiot while it collapsed from overhead onto the ground beside him, releasing a massive cloud of pink smoke from the underside of its cap. He tried not to think about how he'd choked on it, or how he’d collapsed with his hand in his pants minutes later, his face smooshed against the rock-version of his favorite assistant as he came buckets. 

He could create, destroy, or manipulate any person, place or thing he wanted—nothing in the universe could ever stand in his way. And yet. And yet, he was undeniably stuck between a rock and a hard place.

_A Stone and a hard cock_

Robotnik barked a desperate laugh and knotted a hand in his hair, tipping back in his chair as it squeaked onto its hind legs. His muscles burned, too hot and tense to fit in his skin. Intolerable. And he’d been left like this for days. He wanted to fuck, and he wanted to fuck _badly_. An unusual issue for him, to be sure.

He barely even remembered how it had felt in the moments before he’d collapsed to the ground with those spores in his lungs, or how it had felt as he’d fucked his hand until he bled—the entire experience had been a rush of heat and bright spots and Agent Stone, and then he’d ejaculated all over his flight suit, blacking out for what his watch told him had been several hours. 

But that desire the spores instilled in him lingered after the fact. Each consecutive attempt to sate himself had just made the itch grow stronger until he couldn’t stomach the thought of trying it again. But at that point, there had been no choice but to adapt to it—other tasks at hand, like getting home, had taken priority by leaps and bounds above his own physical predicament. Now that he had a moment to breathe, however, it was all he could think about.

The pain was extraordinary, really. Any lesser man would have succumbed to it a long time ago. Studying the spores in great detail could definitely be worth his time for more than just finding an antidote. He’d been thinking since the moment he had been infected that he could utilize its properties for his own armament. He’d never died, exactly, but he had been in the state of _dying_ several times before, and this felt a lot like that; like gravity had gotten a power-up and suddenly wanted to grind him into the dirt, to bend his bones and squash the breath out of his lungs every time he felt his own thighs brush together. 

“As if I would let _gravity_ kill me, of all the forces,” he snapped to no one in particular, kicking a leg up onto his desk just because he could. The bottles on top of it rattled against each other.

He glared at them, more out of intense scrutiny than anger. Plucking one up in gloved fingers, he brought the bottle up to eye-level, taking the cork out and setting it aside. He needed to rid himself of this sickness, and fast. He’d been avoiding Agent Stone like the plague since his return, and he could see the dejection in the man’s warm, glimmering eyes every time they spoke. If he were being honest, that was what hurt the most, raging erection aside.

He could cope with pain, with urges… but Stone hating him? That was a completely different matter. No, he had to nip that in the bud before it even had the chance to take root. So he had to work quickly.

With his free hand, Robotnik groped around on the tool cart beside him blindly, shifting instruments out of the way until he found his trusty virtual retractor. Really, it was only a matter of time before he could concoct a cure. He gave it a day, tops.

“...Doctor?” 

Robotnik tensed, not turning around. He was all at once keenly aware of the feeling of Stone hovering there in the doorway, hesitating, and it irked him more than was necessarily logical. “Stone,” he said, grasping the bottle tight in his hands. “I’m sure I told you earlier to leave me alone for the time being.” 

“Yes, you did. But I made some coffee, and I thought—”

“—That you could wheedle your way into my lab with this meager little offering?” Robotnik spun in his chair, looking at Stone incredulously but not making any move to stop the man as he came into the room. “Well?” 

He didn’t miss a single bit of the warmth that came to Stone’s cheeks as he shrugged, rightly knowing not to bother admitting aloud what they both knew to be true. Robotnik couldn’t help but deflate slightly as the man slid one of the cups across his desk.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Agent,” he granted, setting down his work to take a sip. It was perfect. Of course it was. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him.

“What’s that in the bottles?” he heard Stone ask, almost too casually given the situation. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” 

Robotnik cracked open an eye to see Stone holding one of the containers in his hands, and he scoffed at the impressed look of intrigue on the man’s face. As if it were some sort of miraculous new street drug. Oh, if only he knew. “Curious, aren’t you? Be careful with that, it’s a deadly contaminant.”

Stone’s eyes widened, his gaze flickering over to the open bottle that Robotnik himself had just been handling. Right, naturally he would be concerned. “I’ve already inhaled quite a lot of it,” he clarified. “I’m beyond caring about exposure. You, on the other hand… Not so much.” 

“Exposure? Sir, are you alright?” Stone was around his desk to his side in a flash, not touching him (never touching him,) but close, and something deep in Robotnik’s gut churned in response. He grimaced without even meaning to, only realizing once Stone’s face changed from just worried to worried and _hurt_ that his expression had been taken the wrong way. 

“What? I’m fine, Stone. Just peachy. But I need to fix this sometime tonight, ideally, and I really don’t need you infecting yourself and dying before I have the chance to do so.” 

“But if you’re ill, shouldn’t I—”

Robotnik sighed loudly, throwing his hands up. “Shouldn’t you what? Call an ambulance? Get me to a hospital for help? Sure, go ahead, waste our time!” Robotnik could help shouting, frustration nagging at his already-frayed nerves. “Do you know what a hospital would accomplish? Nothing. We’re talking about lethal doses of foreign reproductive stimulants. Alien sex pollen! Terrestrial medicine isn’t worth shit against infections like this one. Here’s a newsflash for you, Agent Stone: Nobody in the world can do a single damned thing to help. Except for me. Just accept that you can do nothing and stay out of my way.” 

“...You have a plan, then,” Stone replied, more of a statement than a question, which somehow ended up making him sound even stupider than usual. But Robotnik’s canned, angry response fizzled out as he saw the way the agent’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, almost imperceptibly. The muscle inside the agent’s mouth looked hot and wet, and Robotnik suddenly wanted very badly to taste it, to feel it against the backside of his teeth.

“...Yes, a plan,” he said. “I always have a plan, this really shouldn’t surprise you.”

“What is it, then?” Stone’s hands were clasped in front of him as is usually the case, but Robotnik could pinpoint the exact moment when the man’s fingers tensed, squeezing his palms as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The way the gears turned behind his eyes, the way his eyes flickered down to the erection straining against the doctor’s pant leg—it was astonishing how little he was doing to hide his discomfort. His… interest.

“I’m _planning_ , Agent, to concoct an antidote. Obviously.” He recognized that foreign, perplexing look of martyrdom on the agent’s face, and it made the hair on his arms stand on end. 

No. Absolutely not. In no universe would he ever allow Stone to offer himself up, out of some warped sense of duty, when Robotnik himself was so pathetically thirsty for more. So much more. That would be accepting pity, and Robotnik didn’t do pity. Forget gravity, that would be what killed him. “Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, I highly suggest you stop it.” 

“Sir, if all you need is relief…” Stone paused, his deep, beguiling eyes searching Robotnik’s for something; likely for any indication that he was about to get punched in the gut for insubordination. When he didn’t find one, he swallowed hard and dared to lean gently against the doctor’s desk. “You can get it in an easier way, if you want.”

Robotnik sighed heavily through his nose, torturously stuck between strangling the agent, bending him over the desk, and pushing out of the room to safety. “Ease isn’t the issue.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

“No,” he said firmly, turning in his chair to meet the agent head-on. “Don’t think for a second that you’re being subtle, agent. I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not happening. You can earn my favor with warm drinks and delightful tautologies all you want, but I draw the line at sexual servitude.” 

Stone’s face fell at Robotnik’s final word, the term “servitude” causing some switch to flip behind his eyes. It made his gaze darken, for some reason, and Robotnik didn’t like it. He hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? No, of course not. He didn’t ever say things that were wrong, as a rule, and pointing out that his assistant’s interest in getting him off was tantamount to self-subjection wasn’t an exception. But judging by the way Stone shifted and cracked one of his knuckles, the agent had an objection to make. 

It just didn’t make any sense. He knew Stone; at least, he thought he did. The man was a certified moron, but he was a quick learner, full of confidence, and tough as nails. The sort of person that would smile as he stepped on the necks of Robotnik’s enemies. Perhaps even more importantly, he believed in his boss. He put all of his faith in Robotnik’s ability to make good on his promises, and Robotnik fulfilled those expectations every time. Saying that he could make an antidote should have been enough for Stone not to worry. So why did he look so torn up? There was no logic to it, no clear way to deal with it, so Robotnik was left to sit and wait until Stone could manage to formulate his response. 

But instead of speaking, the agent snatched one of the bottles off of the desk, uncorking it and holding it to his face in the span of a nanosecond. The two of them breathed deep in unison as the pink, shimmering particles slipped into the agent’s nostrils, entering his body and taking hold. 

The agent’s head was lolling back with a heavy groan before Robotnik could even throw himself out his chair. 

“Stone!” Robotnik screamed, grabbing the man by his shoulders and squeezing, trying to refrain from shaking the hell out of him. Distantly, he registered the sound of glass slipping to the floor. “You idiot! You absolute imbecile! What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” Stone had to have a death wish, there was no other answer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

Stone made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan as he curled in on himself, balling his fists into Robotnik’s shirt as the shakes overtook his body. He was clearly expending effort, trying to control his trembling as he responded with a wincing smile, “I did it because now, we-we’re in this together.”

Robotnik didn’t panic often at all, but he could recognize the shortness in his own breath for what it was. Stone wouldn’t survive an hour under the influence of the alien antigen he’d just subjected himself to. Robotnik was well-acquainted with the man’s vitals, as well as with how differently their bodies functioned in response to such stressors. He wouldn’t make it. Did he not understand that, or…?

“You can’t possibly want this,” Robotnik said. “Not really.” 

“Maybe I can’t, but I do. I have f-for… for a long time.” 

“Nonsense. You’re just saying that because you think it’s what I want to hear.” 

Stone’s brows were knit tight, a brand new expression overtaking his face that gave Robotnik pause. The doctor watched in bewilderment as Stone removed himself from the desktop, unlatching his fingers from Robotnik and stumbling his way over to his own desk on the other side of the room. He rummaged around in the drawers gracelessly, until a moment later, when he produced a thin, black, little notebook from deep inside. Robotnik frowned. The object was completely foreign to him. 

Agent Stone spared him a brief, heated glance as he opened to a page toward the back, clearing his throat. “May fifteenth,” he began, slowly making his way back to Robotnik’s side as he read aloud. “It happened again. The-… the doctor came in with freshly washed hair and a sweater on this morning, and I could barely keep it together all day. How many hours can someone spend staring at their boss before it starts to be improper? I wonder if he could tell what I was thinking.” 

Robotnik paled, staring at the notebook. Stone had a journal. 

_Stone had a journal and wrote about_ him _in it_

A nervous, strung-out laugh escaped Robotnik’s lips. “I understand what you’re trying to do here, Stone, but that’s much too vague. You could have been… thinking I looked strange, or something.” Even he had to admit, that didn’t sound quite right. 

The agent shook his head, swaying a little too much from the movement, and Robotnik’s hands shot out to catch him by reflex. “No, I never—Listen,” he murmured, his face burning and his eyes desperate and frustrated. “You looked so good that I thought I was losing my mind.”

Robotnik sneered at that, but his thumbs took it upon themselves to begin rubbing little circles into the agent’s hips. “Of course you would say that _now_ , under the influence of the spores, you conniving little—”

“M-March twenty-first,” Stone cut him off quickly, moving on to another page. “We had to share a hotel room last night, and I-I screwed up big time. There really is something wrong with me, isn’t there? The doctor brought along his own soap because he’s so particular about which kind he uses, and I-… When I was in the shower, I smelled it while I j-jacked myself off.”

It was Robotnik’s turn to be stunned into silence, and his heart hammered traitorously as he searched the agent’s face for any hint that he could be lying. 

He wasn’t. 

“I imagined that Doctor Robotnik was there, letting me taste him, watching me come undone with that look on his face… the one he makes when he discovers some new, exciting thing that he can’t wait to destroy. I’d let him destroy me in a heartbeat. Sometimes I think I would let him do anything he wanted to me. _Anything_.” 

The need to see these words for himself overcame him and Robotnik snatched the journal from the agent’s hands, eyes darting wildly over the page. Stone stifled a gasp with his now-empty hands, but Robotnik didn’t even bother to fake an apology for the invasion of privacy. Getting his proof directly from the source was far more important. 

And all of it was there, written in Stone’s perfect, slanted script. He could even recognize the silvery black ink littering the pages; it was from Stone’s favorite dual-purpose fountain pen and remote-detonator. That had been a gift from Robotnik himself. He couldn’t deny it; the agent’s words were unarguably true. But there was something else… something more on the page below where Stone had stopped reading aloud. 

_~~Sometimes I wonder if he would~~ _

~~_Sometimes I think I love_ ~~

~~__~~ _I know it’s dangerous to feel these things for him, but still… can’t I?_

The atmosphere in the lab felt heavy, both of them aware at once that Robotnik had seen something that definitely was not meant to be seen—the “L” word, crossed out and burning a hole in the page. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there's any tropes you want to see me do once this fic is done? I need more plot bunnies of these two ԅ(¯﹃ ¯ԅ)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the meal, everyone (シ_ _)シ

Robotnik licked his lips, scanning the words on the page one more time. He remembered the night that Stone had written about in his journal, of course—the two of them had ended up sharing a hotel room in Seoul on a work assignment, thanks to a spot of messy scheduling and a certain government’s inept diplomatic communications team. They’d gotten in so late that evening that the two of them had practically stumbled face-first through the door out of exhaustion.

He remembered how criminally tender Agent Stone had looked later that night, standing there in his plush-lined bathrobe fresh out of the shower, just gazing at him from the door between their private bedrooms. It was the first time he had ever seen Stone out of his work attire, and catching a glimpse of the way his skin glowed in the low lighting made him want to drag Stone straight into bed with him, completely without warning.

That had been a startling thought to grapple with, at first. In that moment he had yearned for the man, for his _assistant_ , in a brand-new and terrifying way that no self respecting evil genius would ever yearn for anybody. But even through his own internal meltdown, he hadn’t missed the way Stone’s eyes had lingered on him when they’d said their goodnight—at the time, Robotnik had thought the look had been one of suspicion. The mortifying prospect of getting caught catching feelings, of all things, had been the only thing on his mind. Reciprocation hadn’t even been on his radar. 

The doctor had spent that whole night very awake and very alone, hyper-aware of every time the agent’s bed creaked on the other side of the wall.

It had been careless of him, to not consider the possibility of _this_ , instead. He was almost afraid to discover just how far back the agent’s affection ( _love_ ) for him went, how long he’d left this particular potential untapped. If Stone wasn’t propositioning him out of a sense of duty, if the man actually wanted him, then… 

“...First of all, Agent Stone,” he began, looking up and closing the little notebook before tucking it into his pocket for later. “I will allow it this time given the circumstances of your currently-impaired judgment, but don’t you _ever_ interrupt me like that again unless you’re prepared to deal with the consequences.” 

Stone’s face burned even hotter, but he held eye contact, trembling almost imperceptibly but not crumbling under Robotnik’s gaze like anyone else surely would have. If he had anything to say about the confiscation of his journal, he at least had enough sense to keep his mouth shut for now. 

_Good boy_

Robotnik grinned wide, tucking a finger under Stone’s chin to tilt his head to the side ever so slightly, whispering conspiratorially into the man’s ear. “And secondly, I believe you and I should have a little talk about you keeping secrets. But I suppose that can wait. You’re in pain right now, aren’t you?” 

Stone shivered under his hands and it was like grazing his fingertips against a vibrator, sudden and powerful and tantalizingly brief. “It’s… burning me up inside, Doctor,” he said, visibly struggling to keep his eyes in focus. “But your hands feel so, so good.” 

The feral, nameless creature looming in the back of Robotnik’s head hissed out a ravenous _“yesssss”_ at the agent’s words, and he let the man’s chin go, delighting when Stone held still in that position. A treasure. Stone was a treasure. He grabbed onto Stone’s hips, hoisting him up onto his desk properly. 

_This is where he belongs_

“Of course my hands feel ‘good,’ you idiot. That’s precisely what the spores do. They turn your desires into needs.” Robotnik nudged his way in between the agent’s legs, moving in so close that he could feel the agent’s dick twitch against his stomach. Fuck, Stone was thick. 

“Need? That’s… that’s, um, a very accurate descriptor, y-yeah.” The man’s ability to articulate was in shambles already; it was a wonder he was still paying attention at all, really. 

In an attempt to be soothing, somehow, Robotnik found himself rubbing the agent’s shoulders. Were they always so wide? “Here, let me explain it so even you can understand. If you’ve been wanting me as badly as you claim, then right now, the spores are currently rewiring your whole, impeccably-sculpted body to require _mine_ in order to regain function. Without it, you’ll degrade like a goddamn paper towel in the Dead Sea. Do you know how I know that?”

“Because you’re a genius?” He asked, his gaze flickering between Robotnik’s eyes and lips so conspicuously he had to be bordering on delirium. Absolutely stone drunk on lust. Fitting. “I’m—I mean. You know practically everything.”

Robotnik laughed, digging his fingers in deep. “Well, yes, but no. I am a genius, and I do know practically everything. That much is very true. Good on you for noticing! But, no, the reason I know this fact in particular is because I’ve had the experience firsthand. Because that’s precisely what happened to me.”

A quiet gasp escaped his lips, probably from the pressure of Robotnik’s impromptu massage. “How… how did it feel when it happened, sir?”

Oh, boy, that was a bag of cats Robotnik would’ve rather not delved into. But he was also not great at denying Stone, apparently, so long as the man was perched so nicely on his desk and looking at him like that. Well… if he was going to spill his guts, he was going to do it thoroughly.

“Oh, Stone, you have no idea. It was like every single thing in the entire omniversal macrocosm stopped existing except for you. I could feel the fabric of your suit in my hands and even though I’d never felt it before, it felt like home. I lost control of myself completely. I would have had a calmer high on bath salts, for fuck’s sake, isn’t that hilarious? I needed you like air. _More_ than air—air was secondary to you, everything was, but I just… I needed you so badly, I was glad you weren’t there to witness it. I would have ruined you. Would’ve torn you to shreds.” 

The agent squirmed. actually _squirmed_ against his body, holding on for dear life as he let out a tense moan through gritted teeth against Robotnik’s neck. The doctor almost missed Stone’s little noise over the air conditioner that sprung to life overhead, but some new hypersensitivity in his hearing made him fixate on it. His ears thrummed so hard with blood that he barely registered the hum starting up from beyond the walls, but distantly, he ached for the relief of cool air against his skin. Would he scare the agent off, if he were to cast some of his clothing aside? Would it be alright? 

Robotnik supposed he could test the waters… temperately, at least. He freed himself from Stone’s perfect grasp to shed his coat and let it drop to the floor with a very pointed lack of regard, relegating it as something to be taken care of later. For the time being, he had something astronomically more important to take care of. He hoped Stone could read that in his eyes. 

And if the red-rimmed look reflected in Stone’s own was anything to go by, he did. That expression, one of pure devotion, was positively magnetizing. Gods, how many times had Robonik imagined this moment? He hadn’t exactly imagined that either of them would be breaking a sweat before they'd even so much as kissed, but he was startlingly moved by the way Agent Stone’s breath was reduced to panting so easily. The microscopic, almost imperceptible perspiration around his collar was worth a thousand words. 

It was the spores at work, obviously, but Robotnik also had the suspicion that it wasn’t.

“All I could do was imagine that you there with me, and it wasn’t enough,” he muttered, letting himself reach up to stroke the agent’s cheek right along the sharp line of his facial hair. Stone looked ethereal with a full-faced blush, no surprise there. “I’m tired of my imagination failing me, Stone. It's been so long that I can hardly remember how it feels to be satisfied. But, you know what? I don’t care about that anymore. I really, really don’t. Even if we weren’t currently fighting to cheat death, I would still want this.”

_would still want you_

The agent didn’t object as Robotnik reached forward with deceptively tentative fingers, slipping down the knot in his tie ever so slightly, using it to reel him in on a tight, restraining leash. “I would… really, _r-really_ like to remind you what satisfaction feels like, sir.” In the tiny space between them, Stone’s breath toyed with his lips, warm and inviting. 

“Oh, I have no doubt you will,” he murmured, and Stone smiled, the first real smile he’d given the doctor in ages—no one on Earth deserved to receive that smile from him—and it was so stunning that Robotnik just couldn’t help it. He fell forward and seized the man’s lips, pouring every ounce of his longing into a kiss that felt, among a million other things, like he was pulling his heart out of his chest and putting it in Stone’s hands.

Stone, in return, did not disappoint. He would never.

He sobbed into the kiss, and for a split second Robotnik thought he’d hurt the man, but Stone’s hands shot out to catch the curve of his jaw, keeping him from pulling away, and Robotnik sighed against his lips in relief. Stone matched the doctor’s energy with something even more sentimental, kissing him back with care and intent despite the way his entire muscular system seemed to be contracting in on itself. Robotnik let his hands drift to Stone’s thighs, guiding the agent to wrap his legs around his hips. And his assistant, so compliant as always, arched into his advances with a moan against his lips, following the doctor’s lead as he pressed him down against the table. He could feel the hesitation in it when Stone ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and his heart hammered against his ribcage, sending an aching throb straight to his cock that threatened to short-circuit him entirely. 

Robotnik could handle anything the universe could throw at him, but he just couldn’t handle this. He nipped at the agent’s lips as he broke their too-brief kiss, mouthing down to Stone’s neck in order to hide from man’s sight while he struggled to collect himself. The doctor was a man of many experiences, but sexual conquest was surprisingly not one of them. Still, he desperately wanted this to be good for the agent; Stone deserved the very best, after all. Not that he expected the agent to hate doing this with him, given his reactions so far. If the way Stone clutched at Robotnik’s shoulders and bared his neck was anything to go by, he loved it. He huffed out a hot breath against Stone’s skin that made the man melt under him, unable to help laughing at the inanity of his own self-consciousness.

“I feel like I should buy you dinner first,” Robotnik told him, reveling in the feeling of Stone’s skin grazing his teeth, so hot and soft and smelling just like him. 

“Sir, you’ve all- already bought me dinner a thousand times,” he said, gasping as Robotnik sunk his teeth into the crook of his neck. “And—nngh—I think… I think that counts. Don’t mess with my patience anymore. Please.”

The foreign tinge of sternness in Stone’s voice was something Robotnik was shocked to learn he could absolutely get behind while they were like this. “Your wish is my command, my dearest assistant.” He swallowed hard, licking over the bite marks he’d left behind. “Just… promise me you’ll say so if you need to stop. I need you to say that you will.”

But there was a pause, a shift in the mood, and Robotnik leaned back with a sinking feeling to check Stone’s expression. The agent looked him dead in the eyes, suddenly far more lucid than before and staggeringly serious, as uncompromising as he had ever dared to look. “Doctor. If you stop… I s-swear on my own life, I’ll kill you myself before the pollen has the chance.” 

Robotnik gripped Stone by the waist and shuddered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who has some time off? 8D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Tags are updated, please check them if you prefer to read with caution!!** (･´з`･)ゞ
> 
> I thought this was going to be the last part but nope jgkdhdk sorry I want to stretch out their torture, why am I like this???

Robotnik stared back at the agent, searching his face for any hint of a doubt. But there wasn’t one. Of course there wasn’t... The damned man was an expert at hiding fear when he needed to. And Stone had threatened him—threatened to kill him, even, and he’d _meant_ it. At least a little. Where could he even begin to dissect that? Stone wanted him so badly that he’d make Robotnik pay the ultimate price for turning him down, if it came down to it. In theory, at least.

And that was hot, there was no point in denying it. The doctor’s traitorous brain filled with images against his will—images of Stone about to take his life, pressing the tip of a knife to his chest, tugging rope around his neck, tying his limbs and shoving him into shark infested waters... And it was fucked up, he knew. But he found that he could entertain the thought of it, if nothing else. More concerningly, he found himself wretchedly curious to know how creative Stone could get with the idea.

At the same time, though, he had a chain of command to maintain. But that was nothing a little self-abasement couldn’t fix. “Well… You can certainly try,” he began, gradually loosening the agent’s tie, sliding it from his collar as he spoke. “I admire the bravery it takes to punch above your weight, agent. How would you do it?” 

“How would I… try to kill you, sir?” Stone blinked underneath him, his eyes betraying a lingering dazedness as he let his lackluster glare follow the tie from his neck to the doctor’s hand. 

“I know you’re not one to make baseless threats without the means to back them up, Stone. It’s part of what makes you such an outstanding assistant.” He rubbed the silk fabric between his fingers, admiring the texture before reaching to gently take the agent’s wrists in his hands. “So, what’s your brilliant plan? Tell me.”

“Oh, _god_ ,” Stone whimpered under his breath, either at the challenge or at the twist of fabric wrapping his wrists together. “I—uhm, I didn’t realize th-that was… something you would want me to, uh, elaborate on.” 

“Of course I would,” Robotnik replied simply, smirking despite himself as he pulled the knot tight. He caressed Stone’s tight fists as they strained against each other, giving the man a moment to test the tightness before squeezing wrists together roughly. “Remember. I’m in charge here. Any schemes you cook up in that head of yours are shared with me. It’s written in your contract.”

Stone nodded shakily, digging his heels into Robotnik’s back as their hips ground together slowly, messily. “But, um… f-fuck, sir, I don’t—”

“Come on, Stone… You’re creative. Start at the beginning, take it slow. What would you use? Tell me.” 

The agent chewed his bottom lip, the papers scattered under him crumpling slightly as he shifted uncomfortably on the desk. “Well, I’d… take control of the robots, obviously. N-nothing else would be fitting, sir.”

“Mm, you think?” Robonik began his work unfastening the line of buttons on Stone’s shirt, a malicious combination of delighted and amused. Using his own robots against him was a fantastic plan—a commendable one to come up with on the fly. A hint of pride tugged at his insides, and he grazed his lips on the man’s neck. “The devil’s in the details, Agent. Talk to me.”

“I would—” Stone cut himself off with a gasp as one of Robotnik’s fingers brushed the bare skin of his chest, lighting up even at the slightest of touches. He gravitated into it, ensuring the contact didn’t break. “I’d make them... tear you apart... really slow. I’d draw it out, a-as long as possible. Really make you… make you wonder what you did to deserve it.”

Robotnik couldn’t help but scoff at that. “I’m sure I could come up with plenty of reasons.”

The crazy thing was, Stone could very well pull off a stunt like that in reality, if he wanted to. Doctor Robotnik had made the very, very important decision to grant his assistant voice-control over his arsenal a long time ago, after all. Stone could do whatever he deemed necessary with it. And he could easily keep Robotnik from overriding his commands, provided he had a gag and some arm restraints and knew how to use them. It wouldn’t take much for the agent to destroy him completely.

This concept was not new to him. But it was new to _them_ —an idea left unspoken before that moment, one that would require a level of vulnerability that neither of them had been terribly prepared to tackle. But Robotnik needed the agent to realize the power of his position, and to recognize it as a power that was exclusively his. That it was something he had earned, rightfully. And Stone had to understand that the doctor trusted him, needed him in every way like a desperate fool, and that not even his genius sense of logic could change that. There was an enormity in that truth, one that would likely take a long time to digest, but if he could even just plant the seed, perhaps that would be enough… at least, for now. 

“I won’t do it. Not really,” Stone murmured, letting his wrists fall limp in their bondage. “Because I’ve tried living without you already, and I couldn’t take it.”

Robotnik paused on the last button, turning his eyes back up to the agent’s face. There was a look of exhaustion in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and it made Robotnik ache to kiss it away, to solidify his presence as real and resolutely unchanging, so he did. He leaned up and kissed him, slow and gentle and packed with every sentiment he couldn’t quite articulate in their current state. The agent whined against his lips, letting him in eagerly, and his tongue felt so hot, so soft and wet that the doctor had to slam his hands against the desk to keep from collapsing on top of him. He pried his way past the agent’s lips then, devouring him on instinct, fighting his tongue back into his mouth so fervently that Stone had to be close to choking on it. But he moaned encouragingly, filling Robotnik’s lungs with need and the doctor breathed it in, his head spinning with raw affection for this magnificent, otherworldly human. Why in the hell did he wait so long to finally do this? Every glide of the agent’s tongue against his felt a step deeper into some miraculous new sea of madness. 

Parting for air, Robotnik was struck violently by the desire to get Stone very, very naked. The clothes between them were an unnecessary barrier, and he would revel in stripping them off one by one, baring Stone’s natural form to his eager eyes. But that plan would have to wait. Time was of the essence, and the agent was already tied up for him so nicely, submissive and waiting so patiently. It would be a shame to waste it. The strip of skin where Stone’s shirt hung open was plenty enticing on its own.

“Perfection,” he noted under his breath, his eyes magnetized to the well-groomed line of hair that disappeared behind the agent’s belt. He reached for the buckle, feeling more than a little tinge of fondness when Stone’s hips lifted obediently toward him. That one action was enough to provide Robotnik with a sense of ease as he dared to unfasten it, sliding the agent’s clothes down his thighs carefully, methodically. Their unspoken communication felt like a well-oiled machine, and the familiarity of it twisted a knot in his throat. Stone’s stiff cock sprung between them, and the doctor couldn’t help salivating at the sight. “I bet this part of you tastes as good as your mouth does,” he said, wanting to tease the agent while he still had the sense of composure to do so.

The agent stammered incoherently, his face heating impossibly warmer, just like Robotnik had hoped. “Wha—? I… U-um.” His length twitched, as did one of his eyebrows, and Robotnik marveled at the new crack in the man’s armor, showing a glimpse of something starkly akin to panic. “Sir, as much as I’d l-love it if you... t-tasted it right now, I don’t know how long I can last.” 

_Love it?_

_Fuck, he said he’d_ love _it_

“I’m going to level with you, Stone,” he growled, rolling his thumb over the slick tip of his cock. “The likelihood of a single orgasm curing you tonight is… not great. I wouldn’t bet on it, and I’m a fantastic gambler. You should prepare yourself for the possibility of having to come several times before we’re done. Do you have any experience with that?” 

Stone’s gaze flickered to his at that question, but he quickly shied away, searching the wall like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to say. Well, that was enough of an answer. Robotnik smirked and wrapped his hand around the base of the agent’s length, watching the man’s eyes widen along with his first testing stroke. The size fit into his hand well. Of course it did.

“...I think I can—mmh—handle it,” Stone finally managed to admit, shivering beneath him and shallowly, reluctantly thrusting into the doctor’s loose grip. “Oh, that’s—yeah, d-do that more. Tighter.”

Robotnik complied eagerly, letting Stone take the pleasure he wanted, taking in the way his chest heaved with every breath. He bent down, careful not to ruin his pace, to suck another bruise into Stone’s collarbone, and he was rewarded with an intoxicatingly blissful sigh in his ear, the hot breath of it making his hair stand on end. Robotnik adjusted his fist to match the faster speed Stone had worked himself up to, wetting his lips instinctually. Every single miniscule movement and connection was driving him absolutely wild. How was this possible? Why did everything feel so good? He had a guess, obviously, but even so… 

“How-... Wh-why does everything feel so good? The spores?” Stone murmured breathlessly, and Robotnik muffled a laugh against his skin, awestruck by the notion of being so in sync with another human being but also by the terribly, terribly relieving affirmation that Stone was deeply enjoying himself. Still, he was much too coherent, and that had to be remedied. 

“Yes, Stone, I’d imagine the extraterrestrial aphrodisiac might have something to do with it.” Robotnik removed himself from the agent all at once, planting a hand on either side of Stone’s hips. “Now that we’ve established the obvious, would you like to feel something a little better than just ‘good’?” He offered a coy smile, watching his assistant’s expression change from one of confusion to one of realization. 

The agent’s dick bobbed in the air readily, but Robotnik wasn’t taking orders from it, and Stone himself looked more reluctant, blushing madly. “You s-sure, sir?”

Gods, that was cute. “Consider it a reward for your generous self-sacrifice today,” Robotnik hummed, keeping the fact that he would do it for no reason at all a secret for the time being. He reached back for his chair and rolled it into place, taking a seat and lifting Stone’s legs over his shoulders such that the man’s bunched-up pants and underwear were caught on the back of Robotnik’s neck, too well-fitted to slide past his knees, trapping the man’s legs in place. The position put the doctor face-to-face with Stone’s swollen, perfectly-shaped length as well, which was a welcome arrangement. The scent of arousal overwhelmed him immediately, and he let out a hot breath on the underside of Stone’s cock, swallowing hard before his mouth had the chance to overflow. If he was going to drool, he figured he might as well do it all over his assistant’s dick instead of on himself.

So he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the tip slowly, groaning at the taste and hyper aware of every tremble in the body he was pleasuring as he flicked his tongue over Stone’s frenulum. He kissed down the agent’s length, teasing, but not for long—neither of them would survive if they kept playing games. But he allowed himself a moment to soak in the sight of Stone’s pouting, desperate face before he gave into his desires, grinning knowingly before sinking his lips down on the throbbing length in earnest, relishing in the feeling of finally, _finally_ giving the man what he deserved. The agent moaned so loudly in response that Robotnik was certain the walls couldn’t contain it, and he wondered briefly if it would have been a good idea to leave a sock on the doorknob outside. Surely no one in his employ was quite stupid enough to come in after hearing _that_ , though.

And if they were, well… he couldn’t be blamed for what might happen to them, if they were.

With his face pressed firmly into the sparse curls at the base of Stone’s cock, Robotnik kept his eyes glued upward, watching every shift in the agent’s face as he sucked his way back to the tip, observing, stroking Stone’s freshly-lubricated shaft with the hand that wasn’t currently massaging his own aching erection beneath the desk. 

“God, I can’t—Doctor,” Stone cried between throaty moans, his thighs clenching either side of Robotnik’s head in a vice. “Fuuuck, that feels amazing, please, k-keep going...” 

Robotnik hummed around the agent in agreement as if that were the most obvious thing in the world (it was,) devouring his cock with a slow reverence that could perhaps be mistaken for nonchalance, working them up a steady rhythm that had Stone’s stomach muscles fluttering within minutes. 

“Sir, s-so good, ‘m almost there already, I’m sorry—”

Robotnik glared up at him and released the tip from his lips with an audible pop, matching Stone’s continuous erratic thrusting with a tight fist. “Moron. Don’t apologize,” he snarled, surprised at the fervor in his own voice. “Come for me. I want you to do it.” 

The demand seemed to be all he needed. Stone came like his climax had punched him in the gut, thrashing against the desk with a roar that spiked Robotnik’s adrenaline as shots of thick ejaculate coated the agent’s bare stomach. The doctor had never seen something quite so beautiful, and he stared openly at the display beneath him, his hand working entirely on autopilot to coax Stone through the waves of his orgasm. Stone’s eyes were screwed tight as he writhed, wrung dry and trembling violently, and Robotnik couldn’t help it—he surged up to capture the man’s lips once more, cradling Stone’s face in firm, unwavering hands. The agent melted into him, kissing back with a terrible sweetness before he parted their lips, just enough so to speak.

“Please,” he started, pulling his arms down from over his head. “Untie me so I can—”

A rattle came from underneath the agent’s quiet murmuring, followed by split second of silence and a loud smash of glass against the floor. They both froze at the noise, wide-eyed and staring at each other. Robotnik looked to the side of the desk, and found it to be empty. He looked to the floor, and… there was a smattering of broken glass and dust scattered all over, painting the ground in a swirling mosaic beneath them. 

When their eyes met again, it was with mirrored expressions of dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh


End file.
